


Sun and Earth

by KawaiiKoala34



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, POV Second Person, Uhura is only mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 06:38:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4337759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KawaiiKoala34/pseuds/KawaiiKoala34
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard meets the sun three times. He ends up hoping more than he thinks he should.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sun and Earth

The first time you meet the sun you're drunk, bitter (ly sad) and scared half way to hell. Your mind is rearing with space and star fleet and divorce and no more Jo Jo and space. God, your brain just won't shut up unless your fool mouth runs itself ragged talking the ear off the sun, a blurry outline of blonde and strikingly blue--eyes? You're not sure exactly but you can tell that they're beautiful, and warm, and kind, full of bustling life, shining even to you. 

Your fear and alcohol induced haze has started to fade, the blurry edges of the sun have turned more distinct. To your horror, you find the sun looks more worse for wear than you feel, but you also find that beautiful was too inadequate a word. You're working up the courage to ask them what the hells the matter with you, I'm a doctor, I can help dammit! But unfortunately, while you know at some point you offered your flask and introduced yourself proper like your mother taught you, you can't for the life of you, concentrate enough to remember how the sun answered. It keeps your tongue tied, a foreign object in your mouth stalling you with a fear as terrifying as the one you normally associate with the damned thing you're sitting in right now. 

In the end, you throw up on their shoes like you promised, but since they're the sun all they do is smile and shrug it off remarking how--"well it's not the first time, but usually I'm the one whose drunk." It doesn't really make you feel better. Later you console yourself with the fact that at least you were too outta your mind to get particularly embarrassed.

The shuttle lands and your--the --sun leaves like a bat out of hell and you're left with a hole in your chest where you let the small pinprick of hope blossom. It hurts like the other thousand times of rejection hurt, but it's worse because you knew better. 

For a while, you hate yourself for being so stupid so soon.

The second time you meet the sun, it's in a beginner level federation history course. They, he, you soon learn, sits next to you and well, that's that. He smiles at you and it damn near kills you with its ferocity. Suddenly, You are Bones and the blonde haired, blue eyed (you knew it) sun has become Jim Kirk. After class he claps you on the back, and you wonder why he has decided to follow an old cantankerous bastard like yourself--but inside you know you're not really complaining. Somehow, Jim knows, just knows you, and the two of you are inseparable. 

Now you finally know what it feels like to have a best friend. 

There's a pattern to your life and it lends itself to complacency. Which in and of itself lends itself to the hope. It's after a particularly hard day at the clinic when it blossoms again, warm and wonderful and toxic burning your lungs and chest in an attempt to crawl it's way up and out. Jim had come barging into your room, a single-- thank the lord for small mercies--but when he sees your face he stops. 

"Whatdya want Jim? If it's just to go out and get drunk and fuck, you have to find a different wingman tonight" you don't hear anything, so you force yourself to lift an arm from over your head where you plopped it down after realizing who came in and peer over at Jim, but Jim's gone. Left with all the quiet finesse he forgoe when coming in.

Part of you is relieved but a bigger, hidden part of you is just sad and you don't know how to handle that. You try to sleep but when that doesn't work you try getting up to get a drink because you know what? Fuck Jim, and his insatiable need for partying. But you realize that's not what you really want and you're just too tired to pretend tonight so you bounce back on to the bed, and it creaks with your a weight. An unfriendly reminder of your loneliness and slight depression. You think of calling Nyota, the two of you have become friendly recently, but you don't wanna ruin her good evening with your foul mood. You aren't close enough for that yet.

Deciding to simply wallow in your misery, you're laying in bed when your door whoshes open and you startle into an upright position because there's only one person who opens your door with no preamble--but he's away at some bar.

"Jim?" You squawk, and you pretend you didn't hear the underlying delighted surprise in your voice. Jim stands in your doorway, smiling softly, scuffing one foot into the carpeted floor as he holds out some old holos and cartons of your favorite takeout.

"Wha?" Is all you can manage in response as your throat starts to constrict from emotion.

Shrugging, Jim puts down his packages and starts to set the table as he says "seemed like a good night for staying in, I got Thai--and you don't wanna know how I managed to sneak past your RA with this"

You're honestly touched, and you feel it's the sweetest thing someone's done for you in what feels like forever. You cant quite find the words to express your gratitude. Instead, you go over and inspect his movie choices. 

"Really Jim, godfather or the matrix? How is this even a question. That's like asking me to choose between a warm peach cobbler and oh I don't know, broccoli! I know intellectually that broccoli is great and all but I'm always choosing the peach cobbler. Honestly, kid I'm insulted you even bothered bringing in another choice" You indignantly reply because that's all you know anymore. 

You see Jim smirk as he says, "Oh come on bones, the godfather is a classic, it deserves a better comparison than broccoli!" 

"Oh really, like what?"

"Like a fruit tart maybe," Jim states with pseudo seriousness, "bitter sweet and not for everyone but equally respectable." Your eyes unconsciously roll outta their sockets and Jim finally cracks one of his famously bright sunshine smiles. 

You think you must've done ok. 

It ends up being one of the best nights you've had in ages. The hope starts up as you watch Jim snore on your couch with popcorn in his hair and the ghost of the movie lighting up the right side of his face. This gets you scared and so you push it down and don't think about it. Ever. You cover it up with your typical grumpy persona and pretend he doesn't notice. You're not even sure if he does, but he's a genius and you wouldn't put it past him.

But he's the sun and you think even if he did, he wouldn't hate you like you fear. He's too bright and warm and alive for that. Yet still, the fear stops you and you pray to god you're a better actor than your old drama teacher thought you were.

You've known Jim Kirk, a pain in your ass and quite possibly the love of your life (oh you loved Jocelyn but it was never quite like this and you're a little sad you let yourself fool the two of you into thinking it was), for almost a year and a half when you meet the sun for the third time. You realize you're absolutely screwed as you two sit in your room and he says, "when I was young I lived with my uncle Frank, and looked up to my big brother Sam," as he sips the liquid courage.

You learn so much--about Frank the asshole and the source of most of Jim's scars, about Sam the brother who left, about Tarsus and why Jim refuses to leave food left uneaten. You learn about that and this and this. You feel a little blessed that Jim not only chose you but trust you with this. You answer the best you can at appropriate intervals but you're really just there to listen and you get that. Sitting there as Jim gestures you realize that your best friend is pretty fucking amazing. You marvel that you could get him to crack a small smile later on in the evening. This is when you know for sure that you met the sun: he is warm and bright and persistent and wonderful. 

That night you feel needed and wanted and it's exhilarating. The hope flares up again and for a little while you don't push it away. But the fear comes back eventually as it always does, choking your throat closed before something comprisable almost left your mouth. The hope gets squashed again but it took Jim's smile with it and all that's left on his face is hurt that you need to sensor yourself around him. Especially after tonight. You begin to hate yourself again. So you do what you can and say-"aw kid don't look at me like that, just give me a sec ok? Feelings don't exactly come easy to me" 

He waits patiently just like he always does and you resume saying "now I don't got much skeletons in my closet, I'm not exactly hard to figure out, but I'll tell you about the one I do have: his name is David McCoy." You tell him about your father and how there is rotten blood on your hands. You tell him you lied a little on that shuttle back when they first met, your wife may have taken the planet but you deserved to get booted out. He listens and he provides what you guess is all you needed--acceptance, forgiveness. You can only hope you did the same for him.

The next morning you watch him sleep half hazardly on your couch and you smile, feeling a sort of contentment that normally would scare you so much you'd push it down and cover it up with grumpiness, but you're not awake enough for that right now. 

"Hey Bones?" A lone blue eye peers at you from a haze of sleep with such sharpness that under normal circumstances you would startle so much it would look inherently suspicious but you suppose sleep has made you complacent. 

"Yeah kid," you're still smiling as you gently ruffle his hair. Jim looks surprised, but not unhappy. You can't let yourself believe it's anything more than that. 

"Thanks. I don't know if I have ever really mentioned it, but, uh, you're always there like my rock or something and I really appreciate that." He closes his eyes again seemingly drifting back into slumber but you can tell that's just his way of escaping your potentially hurtful reaction. 

You're shocked, and not entirely sure this isn't some dream, but you can't stand him even maybe thinking you'd have this any other way. So you go, lean towards him and brush his hair away as you say what you can: "of course Jim, a rock will do anything for the sun." 

The fear comes back full force, paralyzing you, as you wonder if that even made any sense. Then you see a mirage, Jim smirks and kisses your wrist, soft and tentative but wonderful just the same. Suddenly, it's like the fear never existed and you feel the hope coming back, a bear just waking from winter. You don't bother pushing it down anymore. Just maybe it'll be needed sometime in the near future. Maybe you'll actually let Jim see the hope. Just maybe he won't hate you. 

You think he's the sun. He thinks you're the earth. You both wouldn't have it any other way

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic. It's basically unbeated and probably kinda eh. Thanks for reading it anyway!!


End file.
